Road of Death
by Platinum Seagull
Summary: The demon Hunter Nekomaru has finally been released from his 300 year prison without his memory or any knowledge of his purpose. Miaka, the girl on the run meets him, and together they begin a search to sate his bloodlust.
1. Prologue 1: Frozen Tears

_In times of chaos, one's first and only priority must be towards his people. No matter what the cost._

_Uzamaki Naruto- Sixth Hokage of the Village Hidden in the Leaves_

Men of power are usually said to be men of dignity. Nobility seems to come with a fortunate stereotypical sense of perfection. Commoners judge themselves by the status of higher powers, intentionally or not. From this comes a commoner's perception of responsibility. These powerful men, no matter their intelligence, no matter their allegiance or moral standards, as long as they hold power are required by their lower counterparts to keep the peace. At least, that's the way it should be. And so was the case so many years ago in the Village Hidden in the Smoke.

Four figures sit around a round table, their faces shadowed by an impenetrable darkness. They are all clothed in bleak, blinding white robes that hang down past the knees. Thick gray beards curl from their chins, and long, uncut fingernails tap restlessly on the table. " You can understand my concern Dosuku-san" remarks one of the men in ancient tones.

"Indeed" nodded a second. "We all can. This battle between ourselves: mere mortals, of elderly age and withering power, can no longer stand up to the awesome strength of the demons at our doorstep. Something must be done...it must be ended, once and for all" came his resounding voice. A mumble of agreement came from two of the other figures. A third remained motionless, his hand slowly curling into a fist.

"I have seen many shinobi lose their lives fighting our battle. Many innocent civilians perish at the hands of unkillable beings of destruction. And we, the Council of the Village Hidden in the Smoke has done what? Nothing. Or rather, our fearless and invicible leader has done nothing!" the second voice continued, raising a gnarled finger in the direction of the silent man. "You have sat by and watched with cold eyes the fate your people have suffered at the hands of these...monsters. YOU have tried to hold back our wishes of directly confronting these evils by means of force, instead opting for a path of peace."

"Peace!" spat the other two figures angrily. The one silent member continued to stare into the void, not making a sound.

"You don't wish to defend yourself? Understandable. I too would be ashamed of my actions if I was in your position" smirked the accusing soul. He, looked at the ceiling, closed his eyes, letting the darkness meld with them, then took a deep breath before continuing. "Thus, we have decided, for the sake of the Smoke Village..."

The quiet figure suddenly snapped to attention, his eyes widening. "Gorobi! You wouldn't!"

"..that you have been replaced, as the leader of the High Council. Your actions have officially been nulled. Your voice in this office counts for nothing. Hereforth..."

To the horror of the one called Dosuku, the three other figures stood, arms raised towards the man called Gorobi. "I am now the leader of the Council! Gorobi Mishimaka!" he lowered his gaze to the stunned Gorobi's level, sinister eyes piercing through the shadows. "And my first act as High Leader..." He drew a dagger from the confines of his robes and slammed it down on the tabel in front of him. "...is to declare WAR on the demons attacking our village!"

Dosuku gasped and fell back clutching his frail heart, veiny hands gripping at his chest. "N..no!"

Gorobi grinned malevolently. "We attack at dawn. Goodbye old friend. It is time we went our seperate ways" The old man ran. Heart pounding, Head swimming, he ran. The laughter of what he believed to be devils themselves followed him all the way out of the sanctuary. There was a decision to be made.

The rain came down in thick, round droplets. It splashed on the streets and flowed down the roads like miniature rivers. The tiger Thunder roared from above, sending the mares of Lightning streaking across the sky. The stars were hidden behind murky gray blankets. Only a moon in the shape of a frown sparkled through the gloom. It were as though the gods were crying. Dosuku had not wasted any time. His feet pounded the drenched street sending up cascades of water with every thundering step.

He rounded a corner, his ankle seemed to buckle from the sudden pressure. He wobbled for a moment. The pain was intense, but not for an instant did he stop. He switched feet then continued his journey. His breathing became hard and erratic. His chest heaved uncontrollably. A man his age should not be out at this hour, running headlong through a thunderstorm. But he was a man on a mission. He had a job to do, and it must be done tonight.

Suddenly, his destination was in view. He approached it panting, his hand reaching out to the oaken door to steady himself, his feeble hands quivering under the stress. With an enormous amount of effort, he raised his free hand, then pounded once, twice, three times on the door. "Higoto...Higoto!" he rasped dryly.

For a moment, there was nothing. The steady pitter patter of the watery tears being his only reply. Then, the door seemed to creak open, a small space appearing between the door and the outside of the diminuitive house. "Who's there?" came a voice. Dosuku's could only cough in return. "Dosuku? Is that you? What on earth are you doing outside at this hour? Quickly, come inside, quickly now, come on" The door opened wide, and an ushering hand grabbed Dosuku by the wrist and led him into the house.

As soon as the old man was inside, his legs gave way, falling into the arms of his provider. "I...need it. We...need it" he groaned painfully. His hand was shaking as it tried to grip onto his old friend's shirt. The man named Higoto's face became incredulous. "What? When?" he questioned.

The old man coughed into his fist, his whole body shaking violently. "...now my friend.."

"But...but" Higoto stuttered. "I haven't fully completed the summmoning stage. If we awaken it now, we'd recquire a sacrifice. A blood sacrifice. We have none Dosuku! How can we complete the..." Higoto stopped in mid sentence as he noticed a slow smile come to the old man's face. Suddenly, Higoto felt something sliding through his fingers. At first, he believed it to be rain water, dripping from Dosuku's hair. Then he realized something. It was warm. And thick. He gasped and held him with one hand, raising the other to look at it. It was red.

"No! Dosuku! What have you done?" he screamed. The old man closed his eyes, and let his hand drop. A blood stained dagger, the one from the room, clattered noiselessly to the floor.

"You better hurry my friend. I knew you'd never consent to using the body of anyone except your own. Please...use me quickly. While the chakra still flows through my blood. We have to to do this Higoto. Now. Please...for the sake of our people.." his voice seemed to trail off...merging with the pitter patter of the raindrops. Merging with the raindrops and the tears of the friend that held him. "Don't...let me down Higoto. Save...our people..." with one final smile, the old man's eyes closed, his body going limp in Higoto's arms.

Higoto fell to his knees. He gently passed a hand over Dosuku's face, uttering words of passage into the afterlife for his friend. He took off his shirt, and wiped the the blood from the corner's of the old man's mouth and head. "I...I won't fail you" Higoto stuttered. With shaky knees, he stood, and made his way through the darkness, his hands groping in the shadows.

Finally, they came to rest on a piece of brilliantly white cloth. His fingers wrapped around the sheet, five red marks staining the whiteness. A monstrous figure was hidden underneath the sheet, the outline of a nose, eyes, chin, and forehead clearly visible. "I won't"

(And that's part One of the Prologue! I will proceed to do part Two tomorrow, then the prologue for Red Horizon the following day...Thanks for the support everyone!)

For best effects, this story should be read in tandem with it's sister "Red Horizon"

Every chapter corresponds to the other (except the prologues) and interacts with each other


	2. Prologue 2: Fatal Mistakes

A bright red sun began to peek out from underneath an orange, shadowed horizon, casting a garish glowing yellow hue across the land.

Gorobi Mishima found it all quite fitting. He sat cross legged in an unusual beach chair overlooking a desolate plain, hands folded over his lap, a long, ringed pipe clutched in his lips. A golden eyepatch covered his right eye, and a long, flowing gray beard ran down his chest, and over his chest.

Two younger chuunins stood behind him casting strange looks at each other, slightly perturbed by their leader's unusually cheerful disposition. Mishima was not usually a happy man, but at the moment he was grinning widely and chuckling to himself.

"You know boys, sometimes the best cure for a man's boredom, is to do what he does best. No matter what that may be" He said happily, taking a large puff on his pipe.

The two chuunins didn't answer. They knew Gorobi liked rhetorical statements. "And I have to say" he boomed in a deep, hearty voice "That today is a day that I can do what I do best"

A long howl suddenly echoed across the plain, followed by an earsplitting scream, and several deep rumbles. The two chuunins reared back in fear, hands thrown up over their faces. Gorobi let out a throaty laugh. "You hear that? Their calling for us. Their calling for me." He grinned widely, strange pointed teeth glimmering in the sun. "Are you ready?"

The old man was laid back against the wall, his domed forehead dripping with persperation. Am I doing the right thing?

"Sir, the shinobi are in position" A voice peirced his thoughts, snapping him back to reality. His head turned in the dark, eyes downcast in the shadows. The figure of a man stood in the doorway, his silhoutte clearly outlined by the rising sun.

The elderly man gulped, his throat heaving violently with the motion. He reached into his pocket, and withdrew a stark white handerchief, shakily unfolding it, then wiping the sickening amount of sweat from his brow.

"Tell them...good luck. To keep their spirirts strong, and to keep the thought of our village's safety in their heads. For the people..."

The young man in the doorway snapped into a salute. "For the People!" He shouted before hurrying out of the room leaving the old man alone with his thoughts once again.

His wrinkled eyes closed slowly and he raised his veiny hands to his forehead, fingers kneading his temples. The demons would not stop. In the back of his mind, he knew this. But he could try. Even if it meant sacrificing every man, woman, and child in the village...he would preserve his father's legacy. The drums of war sounded in the distance. Death bells. Death bells. Death bells. His eyes snapped open violently, his pupils wide. They were coming.

Higoto hurried down the street, his arms and legs pumping furiously. What a fool he had been! He came to a fork in the road and kept straight, ignoring both paths, instead leaping uncaringly into the underbrush. To release it so soon! What had he been thinking! Thorns and briars ripped at his bare arms and legs, causing painful, stinging wounds along his body. He didn't stop, not for a moment.

Why didn't he think this through? In his blind rage at the Council, and in his sadness over the loss of Dosuku, he had summoned It without giving the proper orders. It had only one purpose now.

Higoto caught his ankle on a raised root, and sprawled face first on the ground. He was no ninja. Painfully and wearily he stood, eyes afire with determination. He would stop it. He would have to stop it. The future of this land depended on it.

With heavy steps he continued, feet smashing the ground as if they were bricks. He emerged from the folaige gasping, his breathing becoming harsh. He was back on the street again. It had come this way. He was sure of it. But where did it go? He had to find it before the battle started, before...Suddenly, horns blared in the distance, and the ground began to shake.

The tremors caused Higoto to fall, his already unsteady ankle caused him to flip head over heels, and roll down the slanting road, landing in a heap at the base of a house.

"Oh no. Not now. Please, not now." he moaned. He felt it then. It had found them. A scream errupted from below. Higoto stood shakily and scrambled to a nearby set of steps. From his new vantage point, he could see the Gates of the Village, and the Demonic Plains that lay beyond it. His eyes widened. There, on the plains, armed to teeth in full battle gear, was every single shinobi from the village.

Big, little, old, young. They were all there. He even recognized a few. Ja, the genius genin was standing on top of the gate swinging a long blue chain around his head. Hokago, the fat jounin was on the outside of the main body of warriors along with his three man team. Gorobi, the psycotic ANBU leader was at the head of the group of ninja. Even from this distance, Higoto could tell that he was laughing feircely. Everyone around him seemed to be unafraid. They too were laughing. Genins, chuunins, jounins, ANBU, squad leaders- they were all there. Every single one of them.

Higoto gasped. So this was what Dosuku was so afraid of. It wasn't about the death of a few warriors. If all these shinboi were to be inevitably killed, the city would be left without any defense at all. Then everyone would be doomed.

Higoto dropped to his knees. It was over. Even if It manged to stop the demons, it would be too late. Too many would have died. The demons would regroup, and attack again. And again. And again. Until It was destroyed. Then, there would be nothing to guard the city. Everyone would die. The Village Hidden in the Smoke was going to fall. Nothing could prevent that. But maybe, just maybe. The loss of life could still be stemmed. Higoto, vigor renewed, pushed himself up. If he could save just one soul. Just one. That would be better than fleeing alone. He couldn't save the city. But he could still save it's people. Mind made up, he ran off into the distance.

His name was Gorobi Mishima. The man who laughed at death. That's what they called him. Before they came, he laughed at them. And when they arrived, he laughed at them. His name was Gorobi Mishima, shinobi of the Village Hidden in the Smoke. And he would soon discover, that death did not take kindly to being laughed at.

In later years, it would be documented, that a lone man known only as the Hero of the Smoke saved countless lives by escorting citizens out of the village before it was burned to the ground. Those same souls would soon go to found the village Hidden in the Rock.

The final prologue section will be inserted later today. Expect some fighting. Lots of fighting. 


	3. Prologue 3: The Flame

Deishi usually wasn't someone that worried about the future. She was a girl of values- she believed that, if given time, everything would eventually work out for her benefit. Now however, seeing her team mate Ja Shoki's usually passive face turn into one of unmistakable terror was making her think twice about her current situation.

The day started off unusually to begin with. First, her Squad Leader, Temaro had woken her up almost as soon as she had gone to bed. Said something about a very important mission.Next thing she knew, she was here,outside the gates, along with her two other team mates, Ja and Ten-Li, as well what looked like all the shinobi in the village. Neither Ja nor Ten-Li seemed to have a clue what was going on, and Temaro had completely dissapeared. She had said something strange before she left however,..."Above all things, remember, your duty lies not to your village, but to your soul and the soul's of your friends. You all must promise me that when the time comes, you will be able to displace the thoughts of a shinobi. Thoughts of me. And think only for yourselves. That is the true ninja way" Ja raised his hand, then asked icily"But Temaro sensai, isn't the way of the ninja to..."

"Dammit Ja, stop trying to be such a know it all for once and listen to me!" She shouted. Everyone was taken aback. This sudden show of emotion was not like Temaro sensai, and Deishi could tell that Ten-Li and Ja were both rattled. Especially Ja. He was her favorite. She had left not too long after, talking to them individually before leaving. Deishi thought she had seen tears in her eyes. Ten-Li had remarked that it was very unprofessional of her. Ja had told her to shut up. And here they were now. She sensed something was wrong. Very wrong.

All around them, squad leaders were all hugging their teams and talking to them as if it were the last day on earth. And now Ja seemed to be worried. Ever so slowly, Deishi was beginning to get very frightened. The noises were getting louder. The wails in the distance. They were coming closer. Only Ten-Li seemed unaffected.

"You know..." she said picking in between her teeth ", I don't know what the big deal is anyway. Why is everyone getting so riled up over nothing?" Deishi ignored her and kept staring into the distance. "I just don't get it. Why is it that adults take things so seriously?" Deishi glanced over to where Ja was sitting on top of the gate to the village. He wasn't moving. "They just sit here and waste our time. Look at this! I'm not even fully dressed. I only have one sock on!"

"Shutup!" yelled Ja from his perch. Both Deishi and Ten-Li jumped backwards, surprised by the viciousness in his voice. He stood slowly, his eyes squinting. His hand slowly reached down to his trademark weapon, the Blue Mantis-a long, blue chain, and unwrapped it from around his waist. Suddenly, Deishi noticed that many of the other shinobi were doing the same thing. What they felt, she didn't know.

A deafening roar shattered the silence. It was so loud that it knocked Deishi and Ten-Li off their feet. The ground shook, and several voices came from the front of the large group of shinobi. The tremors continued, and Deishi struggled for a weapon, barely managing to draw out a shuriken in all the shaking. The roars became defeaning, and many of the younger genin fell to the ground in pain.

Then, as if nothing had happened, there was quiet. Deishi was on her back panting; she looked up with wide eyes at Ja-bent low, as if ready to spring into action on a moment's notice. An uneasy silence had descended on the group of ninja. All of them were breathing heavily and had a death grip on their weapons. What was happening?

Ten Li stood up holding her shoulder. "What the hell was..." she didn't get to finish her statement. Before the last syllable came from her mouth, her whole body exploded in a shower of blood and gore. Deishi screamed as she was covered in red. Ja moved with lightning reflexes. More screams errupted from all over the brigade of shinobi as blood burst out of unsuspecting ninja everywhere.

The roars suddenly resumed with more intensity than ever. There...there was a figure in the distance. Several ninja moved with blindingly fast reflexes. Weapons gleamed in the sun. Shuriken flew in all directions. Deishi looked up just in time to see the rib cage of another genin explode from the inside out.

She ran blindly, her hands reaching out in all directions. Grasping for something. Anything. She saw a streak of blue as Ja swung his chain. Unearthly screams pounded in her eardrums. Another body crashed to the ground in front of her, it's face completely eaten away. What was was this?

She pushed herself up, the ground slippery with blood, and took off into a full sprint. She didn't know which way she was running. She just ran. She ran, and ran, and ran. Her arm burned intensely. It felt numb. She kept running, but felt something hot dripping down the side of her shoulder. She couln't feel her fingers. She slipped on the groun, and fell face first in the mud. She tried to scream, but no words came out. She moved backwords, her feet kicking up the ground furiously, desperately trying to get away. She stopped as the screams began to die down, being replaced by...by what?

Suddenly, she realized that the screams were dying down because of the wind. Wait. The wind? Why would would there be...? She slowly turned around, her eyes arching upwards. She stared...into the giant nostrils of a demon.

It had Glowing yellow eyes, and a huge, sickening snout. It stood at least twenty feet tall, with great, long horns spirlaing from it's forehead. It's skin was bubbling as if it were aboil, and it's hot, stinking breath smelled like rotting carcasses. It reared back, looked directly at her, then let out an earsplitting roar. Deishi could only stare, her eyes wide in terror. She was going to die. It had all happened so fast. So much death. So much pain. The beast opened it's enormous jaws. So much pain.

A lone figure stood on a far away tree. It had taken him awhile to find them. He had doubled back around the side of the mountains several miles off, and had followed the larger demons to the foot of a gigantic hill. There was a town on the hill. He remembered it vaguely. As if it were a memory. Like a water painting in his mind.

At the base of the hill were people. Many people. The figure thingyed it's head. They must be like him. They wouldn't be fighting the demons otherwise. He shifted his stance, letting his colassal sword sit comftorably on his shoulders. He titled his face towards the sun, the fiery glow giving him the outlined appearance of one burning. His bright orange hair added to his likeness of a flame. Without further hesitation, he dissapeared into the distance. He had finally found his prey.

Oni Kiga was having fun. Humans could be so foolish. To attack them with bombs and gases didn't work, so they send warriors. What kind of logic was that? He grinned feircely, blood dripping from his enormous, over-bite fangs. He raised his famed sword, the Terragobi, and smashed it down into a densely populated area of ninja. He loved it when they screamed. So feeble. So weak. What was the point of their existence?

His eyes searched the battlefield (if you could call it that) laughing heartily as his brethren tore apart the measley enemy with almost as much viciousness as he. Almost.

He raised a colassal hand to smash away a pathetic fireball and a giant dagger. His laughs made mortals quake in their boots. His anger made their souls take flight. His swords could crush mountains. His steps made craters. He was Oni Kiga! Lord of the Demons! No mortal could stand up to him! He raised his sword once again. It never got old. Whoof!

Something stung his hand. It hurt! His great sword fell from his grip, creating a huge cloud of dust as it hit the ground. "Who dares!" he shouted, his voice blowing shinobi into the air. He spun on his heels, screaming into the wind. "Who Dares strike the Lord of Demons"  
"Down Here"

A small voice came from below him. His beady eyed gaze shifted downwards, falling upon a young man. He was tall, and was dressed in strange, ornate clothing. A sash hung around his waist, and a large, taped sword was draped over his back. His hair was a blazing orange, glowing as if it were a flame. Two, strange black marks dripped down from eyes like tears. "What is your name Flame-Hair? I wish to know so I may scream it into the heavens as I wipe your soul from the face of the Earth!" Oni Kiga spat vehemently.  
The man grabbed the hilt of his sword, whipped the tape off of it, spun it around his head, and brought it down pointing at the demon in one, fluid motion. "My name is Nekomaru. And it is you who shall be wiped from this earth"

"Such Mortal Ignorance!" The demon roared, and reared back an enormous claw. Nekomaru, with the sword over his shoulders, broke into a full on run toward the monster, nimbly leaping over it's gigantic swipe, landing on his arm with the grace of an acrobat, then leaping onto it's chest and stabbing the sword into it's heart. Oni Kiga screamed and thrashed widely at the tiny invader. "Get...off you insect!" Nekomaru withdrew the sword as the demon slashed the area in front of his torso. He free fell towards the ground, using the sword as a grappling hook to stab it into the Oni's arm, swinging up on top of it, then slashed downwards, the sword going completely through it's wrist.

The demon bellowed wildly. "My Arm!" Nekomaru didn't waste any time. He left the sword where it was, then lept onto the beast's neck, quickly pulling himself up to his ear, then swinging around in front of his face. "Give me your power" Nekomaru said coldly. With one hand, he thrust his fingers into one of the demon's eyes, it's screams catching the attention of the other beasts.

His hand began to glow a steady blue, and a strange purple streak exploded from the demon's eye and up his arm. Despite being covered in the demon's blood, puss, and eye material, Nekomaru held his hand firm. The demon's screaming seemed to not even faze him. As the purple streak grew brighter, Oni Kiga's flesh began to get more wrinkled, his mouth getting thinner,a bleeding rib cage becoming visible.

The purple streak suddenly expanded, covering Nekomaru's entire arm. His body shook for a moment, before he seemed to come under control of the energy. "Demon Lord...You, are finished"

"Nooooo! Noo!" Oni Kiga shrieked. Nekomaru brought his arm back, the pure, purple chakra condensing around his arm. His hand closed into a fist leveled directly at the demon's forehead.

"Goodbye" he said quietly. With that, the Flame thrust his chakra coated hand into Oni Kiga's head. An explosion, so large that it completely blinded every shinobi still in battle filled the early morning sky. A sonic boom blasted back a huge cloud of dust, followed by a tremendous quake that made the earth seem to tilt sideways.

When it righted itself, and the dust cleared, all that remained of Oni Kiga was a large crater in the middle of the battlefield. Standing in it's middle, hair being tossed wildly by the wind, was Nekomaru, his golden eyes glowing an unnatural purple. He turned his head slowly, gaze becoming fixed on the remaining demons.

"If you wish to die, then stay and fight me. If not...well, you really have no choice in the matter. You're all going to die anyway" He wrenched his enormous sword out of the ground and leveled it at the demons. "I am your death. I am Nekomaru, the demonslayer! Come to me"  
He yelled into the wind. He charged at them then, head bent low, the god of death in his stead. The demons would soon become closer to the god. Much closer.

(Whew! That was long! And that's all she wrote folks! For the prologue anyway! Expect chapter one of Red Horizon soon!) 


	4. Silken Shadows

Miaka was slowing down. The moutain pass had served her well. Actually, it was more her grandfather's teachings that had helped her escape. Covering her tracks, throwing down pine needles and skinning them to hide her scent, and creating false trails that led to dead ends were some of the many methods she learned over the past several weeks while visiting her grandparents in the Village Hidden in the Clouds.

She took a glance over her shoulder. Nothing. She kept moving up the mountainside, her drawn katana slashing and slicing away the briars that blocked her path. Not very stealthy, but she needed to get to a resting place.

Her hair was tied back in a pony-tail to prevent it from getting caught, and her sleeves were bound with tape. The bandits had come so fast, she hadn't even had time to change into her outdoor clothes. Miaka chuckled to herself. Worrying about her clothes when there were blood thirsty ruffians hunting her in the wilderness. Typical.

She came to a stop at the foot of a great pine tree, it's long, shading branches giving her a greatly needed rest spot. She slumped down against it's thick trunk and laid her katana on the ground beside her. It had been a long day. Actually, it had been a long week.

She had left the Cloud Village several days ago, travelling with a caravan heading back to her home in the Village Hidden the Grass. Two days passed, and all was normal. The ride wasn't the best, but Miaka didn't complain. She had made some friends, and even got to meet a real shinobi from a far off village. His name was Kagoro...something. She forgot his last name. Now, she kinda wished she had remebered it. He was handsome too, in a devil-may-care kind of way. Miaka glanced at the katana resting on the ground beside her and sighed deeply. She wasn't one to dwell on the past. Death didn't faze her that much. She had grown up under the philosophy that life was just the beginning of an entirely new journey, one that must be taken through trials of pain of suffering. In the end however, treasures beyond imagination awaited those who succumbed to Yominokumi. However...seeing those people, those innocent people getting murdered, was almost too much to bear. For anyone.

It had been the third day of their travels when the bandits came. No one saw who they were, where they came from, or what they wanted. They just showed up on the caravan, weapons drawn, demanding for all shinobi to step foward. Miaka was in the rear of the caravan at the time, moping around, poking through the other passengers' baggage. It had been a good thing too. If she hadn't had been back there, peeking through the thin white sheets that seperate the baggage and the passenger holds, she would probably be dead now.

They had killed everyone. Not a single person was spared. The shinobi, being the righteous and just person that all shinobi are, valiantly gave up his life for the word of the bandits not to harm the other passengers. Miaka wasn't so valiant. As soon as the shinboi was dead, she had fled the caravan, stopping only to grab a weapon. She wasn't stupid. She knew what going to happen to those people. She had seen the look in the bandit's eyes. There was something about them. Something wrong...Hunger. That was it. They had a hunger in their eyes, and Miaka didn't think they were hungry for ramen.

She had wasted enough time here. They would be back onto her soon. Miaka groaned as she lifted herself from the base of the tree, picking up the sword, and began her trek through the woods.

She walked slowly, her feet growing heavier with every step. She still couldn't figure out why they were after her. She thought bandits were all about the money. These guys really didn't seem interested in all that though. It was weird. As soon as they found out she fled, they immediately started after her. Other people would have probably been scared, but one of Miaka's talents was her perceptiveness. She was ready for any situation. Sometimes it was good thing. Other times, it wasn't.

"Hey, I think I found something!" a slurred vocie came from a ways down the mountainside. . Miaka sped behind a nearby tree and blocked the sun from her eyes with her free hand. They were down there...somewhere.

"Hey, Damashi! Look at dis!" came the same, drolling voice. There seemed to be some scuffling, and a much thinner, raspier voice replied.

"Looks like someone cut through the bushes..." it said. . Idiot. Idiot! Miaka turned around and launched into a full on sprint. They were much closer than she thought. "Wait! Ya hear that?Listen...Up there! She's up there! Get her!"

Miaka slid her katana into it's sheeth and began pumping her arms to get more speed. She dodged through the trees, the pine needles crunching loudly under her sandals. She cursed to herself as she ran. Idiot! She had to find some sort of shelter. A hiding place. "Hurry up! She's heading towards that cave!" echoes came from below her.

A cave? Miaka turned her head as she ran. As the bandit had said, about ten meters away from her, embedded into the side of the mountain, was a small, almost unseeable cave entrance. Thanks moron. She changed direction and made a mad dash towards the cave entrance. She knew that if she got inside, she could probably find an alternate exit, and as she approached, it began to look more and more like an old war tunnel. The barricades in front seemed to have rusted and fallen over, crumbling into dust. There were chains around the entrance too, it looked like someone had wanted people to stay outta this place. Or to make something stay in. In her current situation however, Miaka didn't take that much time to look at the little details of the cavern entrance.

She took two large, quick steps over the barriers and practically fell over the chains. She didn't stop. She kept running. Into the black. She didn't know what awaited her in there. She didn't care. She just had to get away...

Deep within the confines of the cave, buried ten feet in the ground and locked within a steel case encased with a golden padlock...something was stirring.

Mogi Ikuzoma had trouble climbing. Not that he couldn't, he was just a little...big boned. His tongue drooped out of his mouth as he inched his way up the mountainside. Sweat poured down his face as if he were standing in the middle of a desert, and his cheeks were as rosey as tulips. "Damishi, can we, rest possibly? For a moment?" he sputtered.

Beside him stood a taller, lean faced man with a hooked nose and short, shining black beard. His cheeks were shallow, and his eyes seemed to be sunken. In actuallity, Mogi thought he looked a bit like some kind of re-animated corpse. He didn't talk much, but he was their leader. "No. We keep moving. The faster we corner that rat, the faster we can get back to the Sanctum" came the voice of a third. He was much taller than Mogi or Damashi. He was completely bald, with a golden moon shaped earing on each ear. He wore an open vest, showing a muscled chest, and more importantly, a belt filled with almost any kind of poison imaginable. His name was Katsogo. Mogi pushed his glasses up on his forehead.

"Hmmm" he muttered. With a great grunt and a heave, he hefted himself off the ground, and began to once again plod towards the cave.

Miaka couldn't see a thing. It was completely pitch black. She walked foward slowly, her hands spread by her sides. Her brows were slanted, and her eyes squinted, trying to make out the silhoutte of any familiar object. She continued on, the darkness seeming to go on forever. It was actually a bit scary. Walking through the dark, not touching anything except the ground beneath her feet, and not being to see what lies ahead. Who knew what kinds of traps could be waiting for her just around the corner? Suddenly, she felt something. Her outstretched palms rubbed against something slimy. Slimy and wet. She made a face in the dark, but continued moving. This must be some kind of small tunnel. And tunnels always lead somehwere! She quickened her pace, moving from a brisk walk, to a jog. Then out of nowhere, the tunnel ended. With nothing to brace her, she pitched headfirst into the shadows, stumbling, landing on stone cold ground, and rolling several feet before crashing into...something.

Miaka groaned and held her head. Ow. That hurt. She looked over to where she had fallen. It seemed the walls drastically curved off to both sides, and that they were lined with some sort of red moss. That must have been the slime she had felt earlier. Wait...how could she see? Light source, there had to be a light source. She stood and looked to the cieling. Nothing there. To the tunnel. Nothing there either. She turned to look behind her, and was almost blinded by the intense light that bombarded her eyes.

She cried out and stumbled back. What the? She shook her head, then put a hand in front of her eyes. What was that? After she adjusted to the new light, she discovered that she was staring at what looked like...a tomb, a intense beam of light coming froma crack in it's top.

It was very large and square. Not very decorative, but had a five, humongous chains wrapped around it's top, with a padlock similar to that on the door holding the chains in place. They were rusty though, Miaka thought as she edged closer. This tomb has been here a long time. She laid her fingers around the chains and tugged slightly. Almost instantly, they crumbled to dust. Whoa!

Suddenly, something was compelling her to open the tomb. She was no longer worried about the bandits. They were in the back of her mind now. She took her katana out of it's sheeth and slid in between the lid of the tomb and the tomb itself. Miaka raised her hands, blew on them, then wrapped them around the hilt of her sword...and lifted.

The lid moved slightly, but nothing amazing happened. She tugged again. Again a small move, but nothing happened. She tugged again, four, five times. Finally, becoming frustrated, she withdrew the katana from the tomb, raised it high into the air, and brought it crashing on the lid. Then, something amazing happened. A long, golden crack seemed to spread outward from her blow, creeping towards all corners of the tomb's lid like a spiderweb.

"Gee...I didn't think I was that strong" she mumbled to herself. Suddenly, voices came from the entrance to the tunnel.

"You see that light? She's down there! Come on! Move it!"

What the hell had she been thinking? Why waste time with that stupid coffin? She flipped her sword into her right hand, then sped away from the light...right into a wall. She turned to her left, then ran in that direction...there was nothing there. She began to search frantically for a way out. Some way, any way. She desperately felt the sides of the walls for any secret passage. She removed her sword, then angrily struck the wall in front of her.

"Open dammit!" she yelled. Stupid, yes. But she didn't care at the moment. The bandits would find her. They'd kill her and go on about their business. Why did she even come into this cave anyway? Why did she waste so much time trying open that stupid tomb. Dammit, dammit, dammit!

"So...finally got stuck didn't ya? We were beginning to think you would never slow down..." came a gurgling voice from behind her. Miaka whipped around, staring dead into the face of the bandit's. She felt tears come to her eyes. So this was it huh? With a quick movement, she raised her katana and thrust it at her pursuers with a blood curdling scream. A large hand smashed into the side of her head sending her sailing across the room and into the wall. The bandits chuckled.

"What a little pipsqueak. Can you believe we wasted so much time on this kid?" said the lean, mean looking, hook nosed guy. The other two laughed and shook their heads. Suddenly, the fat one began hopping up and down.

"Can I kill her sir? please, please? Can I kill her?" he asked like a small child.

The hook nosed man pretended to think about it for a moment before nodding. "Why not..." a sadistic grin came to his face. "You've caused me enought trouble already" he said with a sneer.

The fat man bounded foward, a kunai drawn from his belt. "Good bye little girlie! This is the end" he said with a maniacal laugh. He raised the blade into the air,and Miaka's eyes widened in fear. She didn't believe death was the end, but she would rather not have experience it so soon. She closed her eyes and waited for the blow...and nothing came.

After several, hell like moments of waiting, she cracked open an eye. "What the...?" came the voice of the big bandit.

The bandit who meant to kill her, the fat man, his eyes rolled back in his had, arms dangling at his sides, was being held aloft by his neck. There was a stranger with them. He had flaming orange hair, but that was about all Miaka could make out in the darkness. His voice was like steel, his prescence seemed to make the very air shiver in anxiety...or maybe fear.

"It seems you've made a very ghastly mistake coming here..." he whispered to the bandits. "...and now, you're going to have to pay the consequences"

End of Chapter One! Who is the Flame Haired Man! Why was he in the Cave! Does Miaka have anythiing to fear? Find out, in Chapter 2, of "Road of the Dead" 


	5. The Awakening

The sun warmed her face. So much in fact, that it was rather difficult to get up. It just felt so...good.

The wind felt sublime as it swept down the side of a long, emerald hill, and the perfectly white clouds in the sky offered the exact amount of shade from the sun's radiance.

Miaka stretched her her arms into the air, and opened her mouth in a wide yawn. It was going to be a good day. Wait...what the...?

Suddenly, she remembered. The chase, the cave, the men...and the stranger. It was if an explosion went off in her mind, a firecracker that sent that day's events booming around in her brain. What had happened? Where was she?

In an instant, she had sprung to her feet, but found that her legs hadn't supported much weight in a while. Her knees buckled out from under her, and she fell face down into the inch tall grass with crunch. Fortunately for her, that particular grass was softer than her home village's softest pillow.

"Child, you have not rested nearly long enough...please, go back to sleep." came a calm, yet strangely icy voice from directly overhead.

Miaka's first response was embarassment. Falling face first at the feet of a total stranger was not the most self promotative thing to do. Then she realized the danger of the whole situation. She didn't know where she was, who this person was, or if they were friend or foe. With lightning fast reflexes, she pushed upwards on her hands, and rolled backwards away from the speaker, her sword hand grabbing for the hilt of her katana, while her other hand pushed her entire body into the air, flipping head over heels, and landing firmly on both feet. It was a move taught to her by her uncle when she was in the Hidden Smoke village. Unfortunately, it would have looked a lot better if there was actually a sword to grab. All her fingers touched was empty air. Great. So now, she was defenseless, not knowing where she was, and facing an unknown (and probably armed) agressor. Just super.

A low chuckle emanated from in front of her. "You are quick...but as you can see, I've already taken your weapon and discarded it...there will be no need for such a thing anymore"

Miaka's face turned hot red with anger. "Why you...what the hell gives you the right to...to...?...oh my" she stopped in mid sentence, her long, thin black hair falling in front of her disheveled face. Her cheeks were still flushed, but it wasn't because of anger anymore.

Seated on a log, not ten feet away from her current position, was a man. If you could call him that. To Miaka, he looked more like an angel.

He had fiery orange hair that spiked up around his head and creapt down along the back of his neck. He had a thin, perfectly rounded face, with not a single blemish on it. He wore a long, dark green shirt, with various assortment of chains and rings around his neck. His shirt had only one sleeve, with strange, black markings running down the length of his exposed arm. Around his waist was a forest green sash that came down to his knees, and on his feet he wore the traditional opened toed shoes usually worn by most ninja.

Beside him, embedded several feet in the ground, was a monstrous sword, wrapped in tape and standing at least as tall as the man himself. However, Miaka really didn't notice any of these things as much as his eyes. His coal colored, glossy, pearl shaped eyes. They seemed to stare right through her, right into the very bowels of her soul. The strange types of marking on the man's arm were also on his face, seeming to run down his cheeks like ink tears.

Miaka looked at him with an open mouth for a good five minutes, before coming to her senses, and turning away and hiding her face in her hands. "I'm...sorry"

She knew, from all the travels she had in the precence of other ninja, peasants, and lords, that no one's character could be decided by their features alone. But for some reason...she was beginning to believe that this man could do no wrong.

Suddenly, a hand came to rest on her shoulder, so soft she didn't seem to feel it right away. "Are you alright? You lost contiousnous after those men attacked you...Ah. There." From behind her, the man's fingers brushed the front of her head. A pulsing pain shot through Miaka's body, so powerful it almost caused her to faint.

"The wound is still fresh...you need more rest" came that same, quiet voice.

Miaka's eyes (though she cursed herself during the process for showing too much emotion) began to well up with tears. "Did you...save me?" she asked staring intently at the ground. He didn't even need to answer, she could already feel his response. "Who are you?"

She could feel the world around her getting darker by the minute. As she was laid gently in the grass, his voice rang clear through her ears. "My name...is..." And then all was black.

The red haired man has revealed himself! What is his motive? What is his purpose? What happened to the bandits? Find out in Chapter three, of "Road of the Dead"

(Ack, sorry for that everyone, I felt like I needed to put something out, but I couldn't really come up with much on short notice. Expect more next chapter!) 


	6. The Silent Nekomaru Talks!

Miaka had been awake for the past few hours. She was seated on the bottom of a long, wooden rowboat, wearing no shoes and resting against the boat's bow. Her head was hung over it's edge with her dark hair dangling in front of her docile face. The tips of her slender fingers gently graced the water as they moved, leaving behind long, bubbling waves in the otherwise still water.

They had been at sea for three days now. The crisp, cool air of the morning was beginning to dampen and the bright yellow sun had begun to dip into the ocean.

Four days ago, Miaka had awoken into the prescence of a strange (yet handsome) man named Nekomaru. Apparently, he had rescued her from a band of scummy theives, but for what reasons she couldn't imagine. Nekomaru hadn't spoken a word since that day, yet for some reason, Miaka was drawn to him. She followed him like a pet, over hills and plains, and even over a mountain. He didn't seem to mind. Now they were at sea.

Miaka had been pressing herself to talk to Nekomaru, but she never mustered up the courage. He himself had been like a stone for the entire trip. At times, she wondered if he was dumb. She glanced an eye over her shoulder to peer at her mute rescuer. He was seated in the customary legs crossed fashion, with both palms on his knees, and his eyes closed. What was he thinking? Who was he? What was she doing here?

The boat was being rowed by an old man named Obieru. Obieru was very talkative. He had told them about his wife (who passed away years ago) and about his god children (who were like angels) and those wretched rogue ninja that were such pests in his home village. Miaka liked Obieru. He had a scruffy beard, and was skinny as a pole, but his voice was loud and jolly. It made him seem like the grandpa she never had. Or at least like the one that didn't drink all the time.

"So...where are you guys actually goin'? Do ya know each other? You don't seem to talk much" said Obieru suddenly.

Miaka raised her head and looked over to Nekomaru. She had no idea where they were going., but she didn't really expect HIM to say anything anyway. She turned back to trailing her hand though the icy waters.

"We're going to the Rain Village" came a voice from behind her.

Miaka started. He spoke!

The old man chuckled. "The rain village, eh? Yes, I know a good deal about the rain village. I actually have family there. Cousins as a matter of fact. Three of them. Two girls and a boy. Or maybe it's two boys and girl. I don't remember. They don't talk much. Kinda like you two" he quipped.

Nekomaru opened his eyes for the first time since the journey began. He looked up at the overcast sky, then to Obieru, then at Miaka(She hated herself for blushing). Then he opened his mouth wide. And yawned.

Obieru laughed. "Tired?"

Nekomaru finished yawning and smacked his lips. He stretched broadly, then grinned at the old man. "You bet! I don't know why either. I've been asleep for such a long time..."

Obieru nodded sagely. "They say when your body stays asleep for too long, it becomes unaccustomed on how to wake up!"

Nekomaru rubbed his chin. "That may be it..." then he looked to Obieru and grinned broadly. "So, you know a lot about the Rain village right?"

Obieru nodded. "Hmm..I suppose..."

"Great!" shouted Nekomaru clapping his hands together. "Then you can definitely tell me where Nonokoko lives!"

Obieru raised an eyebrow. "Eh, who?"

"Nonokoko!" he repeated. Nekomaru hunched his shoulders a bit as the old man shook his head. "Nonokoko? He's the best monk in the Rain village, how can you possibly not know him?"

Obieru scratched his stubbly beard. "Monk? There's only one monk in the rain village" Obieru leaned down to Nekomaru's ear and said in a whisper 'And she's not any good by the way...I know from personal experience'

Nekomaru looked around the boat awkwardly, before replying in a whisper, 'Why are you talking so low?...there's no one around to hear us" he cast a glance at Miaka, who's eyes were practically bulging out of her head.

"Er...who is she anyway?" asked Obieru.

Nekomaru shrugged.

The old man scratched his head. "Okay..well..I don't know of any Nonokoko, but I do know of another monk, the one I was telling you about? Her name is Madame Konikawa. She's a fat old lady that lives at the edge of the village, right on a little beach that's all her own. The properties fenced off because she doesn't want anyway back there. I haven't a clue why"

Nekmaru nodded, his lips pursed tight.

The boat was quiet for a while, with nothing but the sounds of Obieru's steady paddling, and Miaka's quickened breathing. She watched him for awhile. Nekomaru that is. He stared out into the ocean for a long time, as if looking for something. Then, seemed to give up, and was about to go back to sleep.

That was it. She was going to get some answers. Miaka held her breath, turned around, and for the first time in five days...spoke.

"Sorry to bother you" Miaka started, her voice steadily getting stronger, "But I need some answers" 


End file.
